


somebody told me

by arecumbentibus



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 13:23:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10413138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arecumbentibus/pseuds/arecumbentibus
Summary: we were forged in fires, ruby embers lit the way to safety, and God spoke our names into existence in unison, in the same breath – we were root words, spreading out together beneath the world above





	

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this is a fic that I've been working on and off on since late last year and I was finally able to finish it tonight! It's got a weird free style feel to it and is written in second person, so please be aware of that before you dive in. 
> 
> With all that said, I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it!

somebody told me:                       

we were forged in fires,

ruby embers lit the way

to safety, and God spoke our

names into existence in unison,

in the same breath – we were

root words, spreading out together

beneath the world above

 

you grew into a beautiful sycamore

and jetted into the open field of america;

taking firm hold of the land before you –

the land of _opportunities_ that did not

scream scarlet, but instead offered you

solace in the form of helping those who

could not help themselves

 

i was still stuck in the genesis of

our parallel lines – always reaching out,

but never quite intercepting

 

often, I recited the first words I had ever heard –

_j a v ‘ k o v_

_s a v ‘ y o v_

_s a n ‘ y a v_

_s a n t ‘ y a v o_

_s a n t ‘ y a g o_

_s a n t ‘ I a g o_

– but slowly their sweetness began to taste bitter atop my taunt tongue;

the ashes of _missed chance, twice never entered_ sputtered from my lips

as God glanced down on me

 

He said:

find yourself,

found yourself,

_you_

 

I found myself descending:

white branches grew out, ghosting themselves against my outstretched arms

I found myself descending:

open-palms facing the direction of my new salvation, cheering me on

I found myself descending:

no soot in my mouth, no more bypassed connections

I found myself descending:

crimson did not adorn my crown

 

( _I find myself descending constantly_

_I find myself descending in reverence_

_I find myself descending with you, clung to my body_

_I find myself descending upon the sinful blue, blue sea_

_– forgiveness, can you imagine?)_

 

you spoke one single word: _Jacob_

and I opened my eyes

and then I smiled

 

unable to take it, I was terribly unable to take it

when you took my hand and grinned knowingly,

before saying: “you always take the longest.”

_finding myself_ ,

finding my voice as laughter filled the room:

“at least you know _i’ll always find you_.”

 

or maybe it is more like this:

you wrote me notes on left over parchment paper

that your mother tended to and passed them to me

between classes,

in the cafeteria,

on the bus ride home,

and at the midway point between our two houses

 

(perhaps you sometimes even mailed notes to me

by hand delivering them after dinner or breakfast and

right before bed

 

I would look for the raised flag atop the letter box

while the overreaching sun lit my mornings; _eyes closed,_

_head first, can’t lose_ )

 

it started in the summer of 1994 when the long range

walkie-talkies gifted to you could not be intercepted

within the twenty feet distance between our two bedrooms

and the old string can we used to use were snapped in two, long forgotten

 

you wrote:

_let’s try this instead_

and left the note taped to my window sill

 

I wrote:

_nice_

and then:

_do you need a new binder to organize these notes?_

maybe, later on, I snuck a peek at the smile

that emerged on your face as you read the

note and thought of it fondly, even as our

next correspondence slammed me for not

considering refurbishing and recycling –

_binders are not one-use only, Jacob_

 

and I remember thinking

_nobody calls me Jacob_

_nobody (else)_

_not even my mom_

 

this elusive achilles heel, however strong

(in otherwise weakness, in otherwise uncertainty)

and however dilapidated, may have torched

the framework of our language, but it did not

ignite a flame to the resolve in which we sparred

our double-edged words

 

_words._

 

you cherished words like you were drowning in

the dictionary and it was only by combining the

stray letters of the alphabet that washed by that

you could breathe again, breathe deep – _maybe_

_make yourself a lifejacket or rescue boat, too_

 

as for me?

there are few battles that I will not pursue,

least of all those that involve fringe analysis

or the inexperienced deconstruction of a debate

 

in other terms:

you were the pen,

I was the sword

 

(crafted penmanship

concocted together with two parts ink,

one part blood of the sword, given freely –

always,

infinitely

for _you_ )

 

_the marks of childhood, not marred but made beautiful by red_

 

suddenly:

_faster_

_faster_

_faster_

inexplicably:

 

on a night in may 2001

I discovered a post-it note stashed

between an unused driver’s ed book

and an old copy of mad magazine – it

was pink and crunched together like

the autumn leaves of only a few months ago,

somehow creating an atmosphere of reminiscence

that would not untangle itself from my heart

 

unfold, unfold

so very intricately

and the paper’s message revealed itself

in a cascading sequence of partitioned

handwriting that sang with curves and loops

 

through the rippled and slowly fading edges

the text could be made out:

_~~Jacob, I like you.~~ _

_~~I need to talk to you, Jacob.~~ _

_~~Look, I don’t know how this happened, but I think I have a crush on you.~~ _

_~~Hey, did you get notes for the Biology class you missed on Tuesday?~~ _

_~~(Also, did you know that I’m in love with you?)~~ _

_~~Valentine’s Day?~~ _

_~~Prom?~~ _

each sentence was scribbled over or had a line through it,

but this mattered little to me as I drank in the note and

found my heart pumping in rapid succession, surging

with the revelation that laid before me; as i noticed the

demarcations that stood for the _years_ you held on and i

could

not

take

_it_

 

it could have been midnight,

it could have been _sometime after midnight_ ,

but i did not care about anything other than

the sound of your voice and tongue-in-cheek smile

that could break ice in the arctic, could be the culprit

behind global warming, could –

 

your silhouette decorated the brick exterior of your house

and highlighted itself amidst the flood lights pointed towards

the front door

 

brunette strands cascaded,

tan skin exposed to the night air,

the gleam in your eyes when you spotted me

and all i could do was crack a smile and say a quiet “hi”

 

(except i am not quiet,

except my voice cracked,

except

you

were

standing there and though the

night obscured the features of your face,

i could see the whites of your eyes and

remember the worry lines streaming down

your face a year ago, graduation day;

except i thought it was about the

passage of time and anxiety that words

could not be your catalyst anymore;

except it was also about me)

 

your eyes hold stiff to the pink in my hand

as i bridge the gap between our two bodies,

as i place myself ever nearer

 

the hoarse voice escapes from my diaphragm,

only saying “amy” in the expanse of the old world

meeting new world that’s surrounding us

 

i feel the warmth of your small hand on my cheek

before i ever see it, before i even see the small smile

that plays across your mouth – not even the rain

could distract me from this moment

 

and in this moment, God hastens my resolve and i

so willingly close the distance of our open mouths,

lapping at salvation and tasting never-ending loyalty –

being together is worth any suffering, bar none

 

months go by,

maybe even years,

and when the bells ring and our mothers cry,

when the glass is broken and we celebrate,

when we hold back for a moment, spent only with each other

you whisper in my ear what i know you are going to say, forevermore:

“you always take the longest.”

 

unfazed, flattered and in love, actually,

an expression of contentment rests on my face

as i speak words of wisdom once heard in the

genesis of me, you, and fate:

“but _i know myself_ and i know you, ames:

destined, unexpected even in the known,

generation- and universe-crossed lovers –

we _interception, always_ perfectly in time.”

 

the way you kiss me in response is all i need

for confirmation

 

_the marks of love, not marred but made beautiful by scarlet_


End file.
